I am suffering a cookie backlash. It’s something like the brain freeze you get from sucking down a super-sweet slushie too fast. I ate nearly a whole plate of cookies before realizing, “Hey, I am apparently hungry for dinner and cookies…though delicious…sadly, are not dinner.” I blame my son and his cookie-niverous habits for setting a bad example.

Go on. You know you want to!

I am supposed to be writing about my personal philosophy of life as part of my DBT group therapy* Part of my instruction is to “Learn and do challenging things that help me grow and mature as a human being.” So far, all I have managed to do is throw my agnostic self into the holiday spirit like a drunk at an open bar.

In the past week, I have walked the neighborhood enjoying the random display of holiday lights that sparkle and invite; I’ve frosted enough cookies to qualify as a half-baked mad woman; and, I’ve sculpted a snowman and pelted snowballs in pursuit of the perfect snowy day. Perhaps I can find a personal philosophy herein?

Let There Be Light!

The majority of homes in our neighborhood have no decorations at all.** So, as my son and I walked, we passed rows and rows of quiet, well-behaved buildings in order to find the rowdy and unruly ones clad for a festive night life.

There were Simplistic Scenes:

One can be tastefully understated and have fully-lit deer. It’s just that simple.

And then there was the show-stopping efforts we traveled to Lansing to admire. I can’t even imagine where one shops to find a Jabba the Hutt inflatable Christmas display.

Have a Very Star Wars X-Mas!

This was from our car…across the street. Yes, that is Darth Vader with a ten-foot candy cane light saber.

We wish you a Jabba Christmas, We wish you a Jabba Christmas, We wish you a Jabba Christmas and a Jawa New Year!

I don’t know whether the way one strings lights says much (or anything at all) about one’s mental health—but my philosophy says the least amount of effort brings the greatest pleasure. That, and you really can’t enjoy your own outdoor decorations. So, it is better to live opposite the house that puts one up—which in my case, is what happened. I get to admire the beauty and they foot the bill! It’s a win-win, really.

No, to find philosophy, one has to go deep into the kitchen. Perhaps all philosophers start out staring at the world around them to find meaning. This is what I discovered while getting baked…er…I mean baking.

The Cookie Maker’s Manifesto

No matter how well you follow the recipe, you are going to forget how many cups of flour you have painstakingly scooped half-way through. It pays to buy enough measuring cups for a double recipe.

When you go to roll your dough, be prepared for breaks, cracks and just plain wrong efforts.

You will burn the first batch. Expect failure.

Cute, mini gingerbread houses are bound to be just as hard to construct as real ones.

The walls will not want to go up right the first time; you will put them on the wrong way each time; and, you will definitely break a wall pressing too hard.

Frosting makes an excellent spackle. Remember this the next time you are caulking the tub.

Frosting plus cinnamon red hots make a handy-dandy, makeshift chimney to hold up a house and hide foundation-wide cracks.

“Sure. It’s totally on purpose that a house with no fireplace has a chimney. Why do you ask?”

With enough frosting—even badly rolled, overly-floured cookies are edible. And, even if they aren’t, with enough sugar candies, they are at least pretty.

If you can’t find the sweetness of life in your cookies – perhaps you can find it in sublimated aggression otherwise known as snowball fights.

Snowball Epiphanies

It always starts off innocent:

“Let’s build a snowman.”

Winter Wonderland Wrapped in Puffy Snow Suit = Michelin Man in Black

Soon you are bundled to within an inch of your life wondering how the suit that fit last year is so snug? You waddle into the yard and start scooping snow.

You mean for this to be a nice, fun experience…but before long, the balls are flying! (Not pictured because, duh, flying snowballs.)

Teaching my son the value of pre-emptive strikes.

What have we learned from all this? I can’t really say. Perhaps in all the madness of the season hides the reason for the madness?

Shine the Light on Your Anxieties?

I’m not sure if I’ve found the meaning of life in all my wanderings this week. Is it like a colorfully lit, snowy landscape? It can look pretty on the sparkling surface, but the minute you scrape away the white layer the dirt-encrusted reality is unearthed? No…that’s not it.

Cookies as a Panacea?

Can philosophy be found in an oven? If you see a cutesy cookie cutter at World Market—put it down and back away slowly—it is bound to bring you hardship and grief! Nope…I don’t think that is quite right either.

JUST SAY “NO!”

Snowball-ism! Is violence really the answer?

No matter how well-intentioned, every snowman creation ends up being a frigid brawl dressed like an inflatable sumo wrestler! Ahh. That’s it. That’s my philosophy for the week: Don’t fling the frozen water if you can’t take the cold!***

Of course, when the fair weather returns, I’ll be shopping around for a new mantra. I suspect innate sand castle mortality and nagging mosquito bite b-itchiness are in the offing. Until then, avoid the chill and wait out the winter with a good book and hot cocoa. Everybody cool’s doing it.

Ice Ice Baby!

Asterisk Bedazzled Footnotes:

*Right about now that philosophy would be “Don’t eat just one more! There is no end of ‘just one more’ when it comes to cookies.”

**These are the homes of people who fear giant electricity bills.

***It helps if you pick a seven-year-old as your opponent. Even if you can’t outrun him, you can always squish him in defense.